


11/13

by thestoryone



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 15:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestoryone/pseuds/thestoryone
Summary: A night where Kotone and Mitsuru find themselves sharing a cup of tea.





	11/13

**Author's Note:**

> I have a habit of calling the female protag "Kotone Yuki," hope that clears up any confusion.

Flyaways stuck to perspiration still on her forehead as Kotone sluggishly makes her way down to the kitchen. On an easier night Kotone would’ve simply washed it off using her sink, on a more irritable night she would’ve stuck her head directly out of her window.

However, this was neither of those nights where she could find herself easily drifting back to dreams. No, this was one of those nights where she needed some tea to aid her in her existential dread.

She could feel every creak of stairs echo in her bones; her steps unwillingly speeding up to match her heart palpitations. She just needed to reach the bottom of the stairs, and once the stairs were passed she could stop her knees from shaking, she could hold her quaking hands and stop her nails from breaking any skin.

A slam of papers cuts off her steadily decreasing rationality; a slap of reality she needed but wishes she didn’t have to face. A sigh from her upperclassman was clearly heard by her place on the stairs, quiet as it may have sounded Kotone’s senses were uncomfortably heightened. Sneaking down the last flight of stairs with still wobbly legs, she ungraciously poked her head around the corner, seeing Kirijo-senpai with her head held in her hands. Seated in her silk pyjamas slouched over the dining table; her hair was unkempt, Kotone had never seen it uncurled, although she had never seen her senpai this undone either. A sight she would surely be embarrassed to let it be seen... but Kotone has never been known to give people what they want, and she  _really_  needs that cup of tea.

“Morning…” Kotone says quietly, wishing not to spook her. Simultaneously forgetting how walking works and stumbles over her own feet, managing to catch herself- gracefully, might she add- on the end chair.

Kirijo-san lowered her arms to see the commotion but barely lifted her head, remaining slouched over what Kotone could now see was a single folder filled to the very brim with paper. “Morning, Yuki.” She straightened herself, flipping her bed head over her shoulders while closing the folder. “Quite early for you to be roaming about.”

“Quite too early for you to be studying, Senpai.” She pulled out a chair but didn’t sit yet. “Would you like some tea while you’re down here? I’m just about to make a cup.”

“A kind offer, but that won't be necessary.” Kirijo-san collected the folder and started to stand.

“How have you been doing lately?” Kotone interjected before Kirijo-san could even straighten her legs.

She didn’t even cast her a side glance. “It’d be best for us to get to bed, Yuk-”

“You can be honest.”  _Rich coming from me_.

Kirijo-san stilled, and Kotone could see just how tightly she was clutching the folder in her hands. She placed her shaky hand on Kirijo-san’s shoulder. “I’ll make us that tea, not allergic to peppermint, are you?”

A pause, but a shake of the head was all the cue she needed before striding into the kitchen. Well, striding was a strong word, she more like stumbled into the kitchen.

Finally alone, she let out the deep breath she had been unknowingly holding. Her nerves came back to her in full force; lowering her head she let her forehead relish the cool on the granite bench for a moment. Not being able to decompress after her nightmare, being thrust into a comforting figure she knows Kirijo-senpai needs, has left her more than drained. Nonetheless, she hasn’t seen Kirijo-senpai, save for brief glimpses, since before her father’s passing. Kotone knows the feeling of having your life uprooted in an instance; no time given for even a breath, death isn’t that forgiving.

She doesn’t even remember turning the kettle on, but the next time her eyes come into focus the steam is rising out of the kettle. She pours the water, then the leaves and wonders if Kirijo-senpai is still waiting. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had gone back upstairs; she could probably sense the conversation Kotone wanted to have.

She decided to wait until the tea was finished before going back out.

* * *

Exiting the kitchen with steaming mugs, Kotone saw Kirijo-san was still seated, fiddling with her fingers but no longer slouched over. The folder had been pushed to the side.

“Sorry for the wait,” Kotone apologised, setting the cups down with ease she couldn’t have had should she have been alone.

“Don’t be silly,” Kirijo-san stated. Her voice held more composure than when Kotone first arrived.

She sat down and took the first sip. Willing to savour the silence for a few more seconds.

Enjoying a rush of warmth falling into the pit of her stomach, she spoke first. “So.” Kotone had nothing to say. All that build-up and Kotone had not thought of a single thing to say to her. What was there to say? My condolences? How’s the funeral prep? God, she wasn’t prepared for this, she should’ve been prepared for this.

Kirijo-san’s eyes were beginning to pierce her. “Ikutsuki was a son of a bitch, wasn’t he?”

And there it is, ladies and gentlemen, the ramblings of a complete buffoon.

_Remember me as I was, not as I am_.

Yet she could hear giggles. Honest-to-God giggles. Coming from Kirijo-senpai herself.

Kotone could see the mirth in those tired old eyes. “Yes… I dare say he was.” She still hadn’t stopped giggling all through her sentence, so Kotone could only smile, feeling lighter than she had all morning, barely keeping the chuckles to herself.

Kirijo-san breathed out a sigh and finally looked up at Kotone head-on. “What brought you downstairs, Yuki?”

“Oh, you know.” A lie is already at the very tip of her tongue. “That crisp morning air is hard to turn down.”

“... I see.” She was fiddling with the folder now, gaze cast askant.

“... It was only a nightmare.” Shifting in her seat she thought to herself:  _this isn’t right, this shouldn’t be about you_.

“Must’ve been quite frightening if it scared you down here.”

“Well, you know…” Why can’t her mouth work?

Silence pierced the quiet and nothing more was said while they thought to themselves.

It must’ve been close to four in the morning by now, so she could hear the odd bird chirping outside. 

Her muscles felt lax, and her mind settled enough to catch a few more hours of sleep. But...

“You don’t have to keep the ‘mature adult’ mask on, y’know.…” She let her neck roll back from the chair, unwilling to see what expression Kirijo-senpai could be making. “Not around us, at least. We know the truth and, yeah, you still have duties to attend to, but there's no need to keep up that facade here.

“We’re all worried. About you. And relying on us… we’ll help you. We _want_ to help you.” A deep breath, in… and out. “If all of us is overwhelming then just one of us. Talk to one of us.”

**After all, it’s exhausting having to pretend you’re okay all the time.**

Kotone kept her eyes firmly planted on the ceiling, foot tapping in agitation. Part of her mind knew she would take this as an insult, she was too independent, too hurt, but someone had to tell her. She heard Kirijo-senpai pull her chair out, the quick rustle of paper and footsteps drifting away.

“Sorry if I spoke out of turn but I hope you take it to heart…”

The footsteps stop. “I didn’t ask for your advice, and I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.” Then they carried on.

She listened carefully for the faint sound of a door closing before letting her head fall back down. Continuing to finish her drink she found herself thinking, her mother would’ve had the perfect words for her...

… She really had to get back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> There's probably structural mistakes, feel free to call them out but thanks for reading!


End file.
